


My Family is Just Right for Me

by grydo2life



Series: Brother Mine [1]
Category: James Bond (Movies), Marvel (Movies), Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol (2011), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: AU, Clint has brothers, Crossover, Gen, I broke canon, I don't even know anymore okay, Prompt Fill, avengerkink, ridiculously self-indulgent crossover fic is ridiculous and self-indulgent, those brothers are also secret agents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-23
Updated: 2012-06-23
Packaged: 2017-11-08 09:10:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/441577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grydo2life/pseuds/grydo2life
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They kind of had a <i>routine</i>. A very well-established routine that never got broken unless there were things that needed breaking (or smashing).</p>
<p>Coming down to start breakfast only to find Clint already there, sitting beside Natasha at the island counter with his head in his hands and two strange men there with them? That was breaking the routine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Family is Just Right for Me

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt fill for [this](http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/6565.html?thread=11199653#t11199653) over at the avengerkink meme: _So, Clint's been suggested to have a number of siblings, (D.Craig's James Bond, Gordon-Levitt's Arthur from Inception, William Brandt.)_  
>  So, I don't care how AU, Non-canon it is, but I would like the Avengers to come down to breakfast one day, and find, Clint sitting at the table eating breakfast with all his brothers.
> 
> I couldn't find a way to work in Arthur, but I think that's probably a good thing, because this is kind of ridiculous all on its own. 
> 
> ~~I may or may not have a full backstory already in my head for this AU. Said backstory may or may not eventually be written. We shall see.~~

Mornings in Avengers Tower generally (read: on days lacking an unpleasant interruption that usually went on to become more unpleasant for the interruption than the Avengers themselves) went something like this:

Bruce would wake up first, at some ungodly hour (Tony’s words) before sunrise and spend at least an hour, but usually more, meditating. Steve was generally up at sunrise, and after dressing and washing up, he’d head down to the labs to forcibly remove Tony (who more than likely never actually slept to begin with, unless Pepper was over) and manhandle him into a shower and shave. Then they’d meet with Bruce in the hall and head down to start breakfast, where Natasha would already be waiting at the island counter with coffee made and the morning paper already opened. 

Sometime between breakfast starting and breakfasting serving, Thor would wake up and bound into the room still in his pajamas (which none of them complained about because it took them a long time to convince him that pajamas were a _necessary thing_ when living with other people in the first place). 

And somewhere in the middle of all this, Clint would sneak down, steal the comics from Natasha’s paper, and then disappear after the food was gone.

None of them liked to think too hard about the fact that they had a routine, but… well, they kind of had a _routine_. A very well-established routine that never got broken unless there were things that needed breaking (or smashing).

Coming down to start breakfast only to find Clint already there, sitting beside Natasha at the island counter with his head in his hands and two strange men there with them? That was breaking the routine. 

“Uh…” Steve said. “Morning?”

Natasha lifted her eyes to him and said, “Good morning.” 

Clint just mumbled something into his hands. 

The man sitting beside Clint lifted his coffee cup in a casual salute. “Captain.” He spoke with an accent, and for just a moment, Steve felt something in his chest twinge as thoughts of Peggy sprang to mind. 

The second man had his back to them and was facing the stove, but he waved very briefly and said, “Morning,” and then, “Food’s almost ready, if you want any.”

And then everyone was silent. Awkwardly.

“…well,” Bruce said finally, looking a little bit uncomfortable. “I didn’t realize we were having guests.”

Natasha gave a grin, or at least something that passed as one for her. “Well, you know family.” She said, sounding incredibly amused as she lifted her coffee mug to take a drink.

Clint made a strangled noise and kicked her leg. Natasha scowled and kicked back. The two went back and forth like that for a moment before the man beside Clint chided, pointedly, “ _Children_.” Then they froze, glared at each other, and pulled away.

“She started it,” Clint grumbled, sulking just a bit.

“She always starts it.” The man at the stove pointed out. “You’re the moron that keeps rising to the bait.”

“Hey!”

“Go easy on him, Will.” The other one said, with amusement that faded away into irritation as he added rather sharply, “He is, after all, _injured_.”

Clint grimaced and then scowled at him. “Don’t start with me. Anyone that spends as much time in hospitals as you do doesn’t get to lecture me on getting hurt while doing my job.”

“This is better than television!” Tony declared suddenly, and the only reason Steve didn’t admonish him for it was because it seemed to have effectively cut off a brewing argument. Still, there was a certain twinkle in Tony’s eyes that made him wary. “Family, wow. And here we thought our little archer was all alone in the world.” Clint opened his mouth to respond, probably with something rude, but Tony pushed on right over him, addressing the two strangers instead. “Well, gentlemen. My name is Tony Stark, and I must say, it is an _honor_ to meet anyone with as much potential blackmail material as you must have.”

Clint let out a somewhat pathetic noise and dropped his forehead onto the countertop with a ‘thunk’. “Kill me now.”

“Not a chance,” Natasha said. She sounded like she was having fun. Clint hated her for it.

“Well, Clint?” Tony said, now well and truly into the role and enjoying every moment of it. “Don’t be rude. Introduce us to your guests!”

Clint glared at him and tossed him an impolite gesture. The man beside him cleared his throat pointedly and Clint sighed in a very put-upon manner. “Fine.” He grumbled, and then waved first at the one closest to him, and then to the one at the stove. “This is James, and that’s Will. They’re my brothers.”

James nodded at them. Will turned around, smiled, and ignored the sharp intake of breath everyone else in the room took at seeing his face as he set several plates of food in front of Clint, James, and Natasha. Several heads swiveled to look from Clint to Will and then back again as Will pulled up a stool across from Clint.

“Yes,” Clint said, before anyone could ask the obvious question. “We are.”

Tony frowned. “Out of curiosity, which of you is older?”

“Tony—” Clint said, at the same time Will answered, “I am.”

Clint shot his twin a betrayed look while Tony crowed in delight. “You’ve been holding out on us, Cupid!” He said, giving Clint’s shoulder a slap. And then he immediately pulled back, the smile dropping from his face, as Clint poorly suppressed a grimace. “Shit, I’m sorry. I forgot.”

Clint waved him off. It was too late anyway; James was already setting down his coffee cup, the look on his face sharp and dark in ways that reminded them all a little too much of Natasha. “The medical reports said nothing about a shoulder injury,” he said dangerously.

Clint flinched. “It’s nothing.” He said, a touch of defensiveness in his voice. “It got jolted around a little bit when I was fighting, it’s not—OW!” James frowned at him and shifted his grip on Clint’s shoulder. It didn’t really hurt any less, but Clint knew better than to put up too much of a fight. Instead, he shot his other brother a pleading look. “ _Will_.”

Will shook his head. “Don’t look at me,” he said. “You brought this on yourself.”

“I hate you,” Clint told him with a scowl. Will just smiled pleasantly and stole a sausage off of Clint’s plate. James squeezed something and Clint felt a brief but sharp twinge of pain run across his shoulders. “Ow, Jesus. James, I’m _fine_ , seriously. It’s not that big a deal.”

“You were kidnapped.” James retorted. His tone was mild and unruffled, like he was unsurprised. There was still a note of disapproval there, though. 

“And tortured.” Will added, not nearly as guarded with his displeasure. Every Avenger in the room felt a momentary jolt of guilt at the reminder. They’d gotten Clint back (or, well, Clint had gotten himself out and called for backup) before the day had been over, but they all still felt a sense of responsibility for the injuries left behind.

“This is not the first time I’ve been worked over.” Clint told them, either ignorant of or just deliberately ignoring the others’ reactions. 

“They showed up last time, too.” Natasha pointed out.

Clint scowled at her. “You are not helping.”

Natasha blinked at him slowly. “I’m sorry, was I supposed to be?”

“This was dislocated.” James announced, before Clint could come up with a satisfyingly snark-filled reply. Clint groaned and slumped forward in defeat. In the background, Tony snickered. Steve elbowed him into silence, but not quick enough to escape a dirty look from their resident archer.

“You all _suck_ ,” Clint decided, glaring at James’ coffee cup dejectedly.

Will’s response was to reach over and commandeer the rest of his breakfast, fork and all. “Of course we do,” he agreed indulgently. “Now be quiet and let us take care of you.”

Clint sulked.

(Everyone else was kind enough not to point out that the small, pleased grin he wore sort of ruined it for him.)

**Author's Note:**

> I imagine Brandt and Bond would both be a little bit looser when around someone they've known most of their lives, and that is totally my excuse for anything OOC. 
> 
> The title, by the way, comes from a Barney song, according to Google. Because I have obviously not demonstrated enough today how utterly insane I am.


End file.
